All the Same
by gingaloid
Summary: Emma's OCD, mysophobic, and she hurts herself. When Will finds out, he's determined to help her, but can he? Rated M for mature themes and emotionally triggering circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

**Emma's Perspective**

We've done the dating thing a few times before. We go strong for a while, and by the third or fourth week, we fight again. Usually because I don't feel like I'm worthy of having him as my boyfriend, and he doesn't understand why I can't trust him to love me.

We're in high school, so maybe that's the way it's supposed to go. We're supposed to fight and argue and find ourselves. All of our friends get together and they fight, but they get through it. Not Will and I. Generally speaking, after the second or third argument, it's a mutually understood concept that it's not going to work again. He's always the one to call it off and go back to Terri, while I go home and cry because I know that I messed it up again. This is the first time I've ever dated someone to spite him. Carl Howell. Quarterback of the football team, super dreamy smile…that's about all of his redeeming qualities.

It makes sense that he would go back to Terri. They'd been together since freshman year, and it wasn't until summer after sophomore year that they broke up. There I was, the best friend ready to help him, but it turns out I helped him out in more way than one and we started dating. He's the greatest guy in the world. I really don't think I deserve him, no matter how much he says that I do.

I've struggled with OCD and mysophobia for about ten years now. It's been ten years of teasing and ridicule by my parents and other family members. Ten years of feeling pointless and worthless, like I don't belong…anywhere. Until I met Will when we were ten, nobody had ever really shown me friendship, but that friendship became strained in Junior High and we drifted apart, and by freshman year, we were practically strangers, but I was still his best friend and he was still mine, even if we were on two opposite ends of the totem pole. The hardest thing is going through the torment from peers and having nobody to stand by you through it. I started hurting myself. I was fifteen.

At first, the pain was superficial. I didn't have the strength to cut myself at first. I settled for scratching myself; it helped me ignore the emotional pain as I focused on the minimal physical, and it was less messy, but after a while it wasn't enough. One day, I got…what I considered brave…and I cut my wrist for the first time. It hurt, and it bled, but for a while, I forgot about feeling worthless and irrelevant and alone, because the stinging ache on my wrist and the red fluid trickling from my veins was distracting me. I hate messes, but I love cleaning. That's where the cutting worked. I hated making a mess and in that moment I hated myself more than anyone else could. But after the pain resided and I felt like I had control, I'd clean up the mess and feel better.

That's when I started wearing bracelets and cardigans. The sleeves would cover my scarred wrists and when they weren't long enough, the bracelets would do the trick. When Will and I first got together, I stopped. He made me feel like I wasn't some pointless kid who had mental issues and nobody to depend on. He let me lean on him and he cared, he really cared. The first time we fought, I had a dream that he'd broken up with me because he had only been dared to date me in the first place. I demanded that he tell me the truth to why he would date me. I didn't deserve him. He swore he wanted to date me and it wasn't a dare, but I wouldn't believe him.

Maybe that was my problem. I didn't realize that I deserved happiness, and sometimes I still don't. I kept fighting him on it, and a few weeks later, we broke up and he went back to Terri. That's been the cycle now, for two and a half years. We get together, we fight, he goes back to Terri, I hurt myself and I pretend I'm okay. Then he and Terri fight and he comes back to me, swearing that he'll never go back to her. But he always does. Or, he always did.

I'm eighteen years old. I know it's probably childish to feel the way I do sometimes, childish to be hurting myself. I just have no other way to release the hurt I'm feeling. I was sitting in my bathroom when he found me.

**Will's Perspective**

Emma won't let me love her. That's why we fight. She doesn't see that she's worth something, worth more than any girl in the world. She tells me that I'm perfect and that she can't understand why someone like me would waste their time on her. It's because she's beautiful and smart, she cares about other people even though none of them care about her. It's because when I'm with her, I feel like I'm complete, and I know we're only eighteen, but I love her. I do. Emma just doesn't love herself.

We met back in fifth grade. She was sitting alone on the playground, a blanket underneath her and a book on her lap. I was running to play with some of my buddies when a shock of red hair caught my eye, and I decided making friends for once could be cool. When I introduced myself, her huge eyes widened and she started stuttering, demanding to know why I was bothering her and if it was because I was going to tease her, she wasn't in the mood to deal with it at that moment. It took half of recess for me to convince her that I just wanted to be her friend and from that moment on, we were best friends.

That's the thing with Emma. She never just sat idly by when people would start at the teasing; she'd usually attempt a preemptive strike, but it never worked. The teasing would still happen relentlessly, but there was nothing I could do about it. When we started Junior High, it got worse, and she did start to let it just happen. She stopped fighting against the inevitable and we drifted apart. I got into sports, girls, and music, while she got into books and volunteer work. By the time high school came round, I was dating a girl named Terri and Emma and I were practically strangers. I considered her to be my best friend, still, even if we never interacted.

Terri isn't what you'd call a low-maintenance girlfriend. She was demanding and attention seeking. Blonde, beautiful, popular and smart added up to her being the coolest girl in school, as well as head Cheerio. She made things difficult, though, and became clingy and jealous. Too much to be attractive anymore, and she and I broke up after two years. My first thought was to call Emma; I needed someone I cared about to talk to. She met with me at the park and talked me through my feelings as if we'd never fallen apart.

A month later, I asked her out on our first date. I'd developed feelings for her in her time helping me through my break up and I didn't care that she'd changed. She'd become quieter and more reserved, a look of longing and sadness in her eyes most times, but I wanted her despite all of that. I was overjoyed when she agreed.

We went strong for a while, a couple of months, actually, but then she started to feel like she wasn't worthy of my attention. I always disagreed, because I felt she was the only girl worthy of my attention, the only girl worth spending time with and caring for. We argued for two weeks before I finally called it off, and it was a jerk thing to do, but I went back to Terri, who took me back a bit too readily.

That's been our pattern now for two and a half years. I didn't know how much Emma was hurting all this time. I never knew she fought me because she really did feel like she shouldn't be loved. I never knew she was hurting herself. Until last night. Until I found her on her bathroom floor.

**All the Same**

_I don't mind where you come from __As long as you come to me | But I don't like illusions | I can't see them clearly | I don't care, no I wouldn't dare__To fix the twist in you | You've shown me eventually what you'll do | I don't mind, I don't care | As long as you're here | Go ahead and tell me you'll leave again | You'll just come back running | Holding your scarred heart in hand | It's all the same | And I'll take you for who you are | If you take me for everything | And do it all over again |It's all the same_

Will smiled at Terri across the lunch table, passing her a heart-shaped cookie he'd made for her last night. The napkin below it said 'With Love'. They'd been back together for three weeks now, and he was determined not to dwell on the fact that three weeks ago, he and Emma broke up and today would have been one of their 'anniversaries' if they could have just toughed it out. Mainly, he tried to ignore the fact that this time, Emma began to date a guy three days after their break up. Carl Howell. Ugh, the nerve of the guy to date the girl of his dreams.

Carl was quarterback of the high school football team, and he had three college scouts going after him with full-rides for next fall. He had straight teeth, hair like Danny Zucko, and an aura about him that just drew attention to himself. Will didn't like the guy at all, even more so now that Emma was sitting on his lap at the next table over, giggling at some joke he'd just made. They were so happy. Always joking and smiling and laughing. Holding hands in the hallways and sneaking each other small kisses. It was sickening to see her so happy with someone else.

"Will, you're staring at Germy Ginger and her Hulk again," Terri said, snapping her fingers in front of Will's face.

"Wha? Oh, yeah…sorry, I," he looked at Terri, "Emma's in my math class and I need to ask her a question about tonight's assignment. Be right back."

Will stood and pecked his girlfriend's lips gently before walking over to Emma and Carl. He ran a hand nervously through his hair as the pair looked over and him and he swallowed hard.

"Carl," he spoke with huge disdain in his voice, while his tone softened upon muttering his next few words, "Em, can we talk? It's about math."

Emma looked between Will and Carl for a moment before nodding, "Alright." She moved to stand, but Carl tightened his grip around her waist and kissed her passionately in the middle of the cafeteria. Emma froze, not wanting to appear to like him as much as she was letting on. She was still hurt from Will and wanted nothing more than to get back together with him, but she forced herself to kiss Carl back, getting a few 'whoops' from the football team. Smiling slightly, she stood and followed Will outside of the cafeteria.

"Sorry about that. He's got this thing about making sure nobody else is going to try and snatch me…he's, uh, a bit jealous of you," she shook her head as she spoke, as if being Will were the most ridiculous thing in the world. But Carl should be jealous of Will, because Emma still gave her heart to Will and she didn't plan on giving it to anyone else.

Will nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "It's fine…how, er, how are things? With Carl, I mean?"

"Great! Things are amazing. He's the perfect boyfriend. Really. He's even helped me with my OCD and I don't need to clean things and use gloves all the time. Things with Terri?" _Liar. He's the biggest ass on the planet and he's always trying to change you._

In truth, Carl was a terrible boyfriend. He spent all of his time either talking about himself or putting Emma down. He told her she was a weird little freak for using her gloves about being so clean, and demanded that she stop. He didn't understand that Emma _was_ this way. She couldn't help it. Carl didn't care, and he took to verbally breaking her down any moment that he could, in private of course. In public he was a perfect gentleman. Their whole relationship was one huge illusion. Part of Emma knew his behavior was wrong, but she ignored it. She deserved someone like Carl, not someone like Will, so she stuck it out.

"Terri…things with Terri are good. Listen, I'm having a difficult time understanding this weekend's homework, and I figured since it's Friday, maybe I could come over and you could help me? Please? We're still best friends, right?"

Emma looked into Will's eyes and bit her lip. She didn't know if she should agree. The pain was still there, the hurt that was causing her to start the self-harm again. What if she spent time with him and it made it even worse? Not only had he gone back to Terri again, but she'd run off to Carl, and it killed her to see him so happy with Terri and pretend to be so happy with Carl. Will was looking at her with that puppy dog look, though…how could she refuse that? Taking a breath, she nodded and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Okay. I'll..yeah, I have volunteer work until seven, so you can come over then and I'll make dinner and we can study," she sighed, wondering when she became a masochist.

"Great. See you tonight!"

Emma sighed as she walked away, taking a few deep breaths before walking back into the cafeteria and sitting back down with Carl, finishing her lunch in silence.

That night, Emma decided to make some spaghetti and rolls for dinner. Her parents were gone for the weekend and her brother was sleeping at his girlfriend's for the night. She took her time, making sure her cooking was good, and was just serving it up as a knock rang out on her door. She looked at the clock. 8 o'clock. Good timing, Will. She finished plating it up and went to get the door. Upon opening it, Emma took in Will's appearance. He was wearing the shirt she'd given him last Christmas and his hair looked like he actually took time to do it. She smiled slightly and stepped out of the way, letting him in and closing the door.

"Hey. Good timing. I just finished cooking."

"Smells great, Em. I brought my homework and your favourite cookies as a thank you."

Smiling, Emma took the box of cookies from him, "Thanks, that's sweet." She began walking to the kitchen and Will smiled, nonchalantly checking her out as she walked. God, how he missed wrapping his arms around her and kissing her. Sighing, he took his plate from her gratefully and sat at the table with her. They talked a bit as they ate, both of them avoiding the topic of relationships. They were halfway through eating when Emma's phone rang.

"Sorry, it might be my parents."

She stood and dashed to the phone, picking it up off of the receiver, "Pillsbury Residence. This is Emma speaking, how can I help? Carl? H-hi. Uh…n-no. No, I can't go out tonight….Well, I'm helping someone with homework…Yes….yes…No! No, Carl, I – No, it's not like—" she was silent for a few minutes, tearing up slightly as Carl began talking down to her about being a two-faced liar seeing her ex behind his back. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall silently, her back to Will, humiliation flooding through her even though Will couldn't hear what was being said.

"Y-you're r-right. I am…" she whispered into the speaker, her heart heavy as Carl muttered the four words that broke her, the four words that nobody had ever vocalized to her, but she felt so deep down. 'You are absolutely worthless,' followed by him ending their relationship, saying he didn't want to ruin his reputation any further by pity dating a worthless freak.

Emma knew this was coming. In the three weeks they'd been together, she never received any reason to believe it would end any differently. He'd told her before that he was pity dating her and she just took it. At least she was dating someone instead of pathetically waiting around for Will. Though now she saw that she was more pathetic for dating Carl.

Hanging up the phone, Emma cleared her throat. "Will, would you please excuse me for a few minutes? I…I'll be back."

She ran upstairs before he could say anything or ask about the phone call. She walked into the bathroom, hurt coursing through her. She sat on the edge of the tub, allowing her tears to fall freely, feeling lost and worthless, her deepest feelings about herself confirmed. She'd just been dumped in the most humiliating way. Not only that, but her ex-boyfriend who she was in love with was downstairs and witnessed it, even if he couldn't hear it. Carl had vocalized the thoughts in her mind that had torn her apart for as long as she could remember.

Forget it. That's what she needed to do. Block it out and forget it. Closing the door, Emma threw open her drawers to find her best friend in the worst times; the one thing that could grant her that forgetfulness that she needed. Finding the blade, she sat on the floor, her back against the tub. Placing the cool metal against the just-healed skin of her wrist, Emma closed her eyes, the blade soothing her. _It's okay, _it said to her, _you'll forget in just a second_. Pressing down, she dragged the metal across her wrist once, twice, three times in the same spot, gasping slightly as the pain flooded through her, feeling the warm fluid trickle slightly down her arm. The tears continued to flow as she moved the metal down a bit and started a new cut on fresh skin.

Things didn't have to be as bad anymore for her to need the pain in her arms. Small things would set her off and she'd just fall back on it. It gave her a certain high that she couldn't explain but the pain and the mess and the clean up afterward was so therapeutic. It helped her.

She took a deep breath and let out a sob, her hand shaking as she took the blade to a third spot down her wrist to begin the motions again, ignoring the blood all over her wrist. She was in the middle of the third cut when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Emma? Em…you've been in there for fifteen minutes. Is everything okay?"

Emma let out a small sob, "W-will, go a-away! I…I don't deserve c-c-company right now! J-just go home!" She bit her lip, tears falling more down her cheeks. Will continued knocking, though.

"Emma, you're not okay. I can hear you crying, and I've known you for eight years. Tell me what's wrong."

Emma ignored his pleas for her to tell him what was wrong and turned back to her arm, finishing what she started. She was moving on to her fourth cut when Will decided to try the doorknob, which Emma thought she'd locked.

Walking into the bathroom, Will stopped, horror crossing his face as he looked down at his ex-girlfriend and best friend. Blood was running down her left arm, three long cuts gracing the skin. She had the blade pressed against her arm, waiting to be dragged across for the fourth time. Tears were running from her eyes and her hair had fallen in her face.

"Emma…?" he choked out her name, barely above a whisper. He couldn't believe the sight before his eyes. He watched her start to drag the blade and moved over to her, dropping down in front of her, "Emma, no. Please."

The girl looked up at him. She looked so small, so hopeless, tears running down her face in tracks. Her eyes were watery and detached from the situation at hand, as if she didn't even have second thoughts about cutting herself up. She stared at him for a moment before dropping the blade to the floor, shaking her head.

Will kicked the blade out of the way and pulled her into his lap. He stroked her hair, tears threatening his own eyes as she sobbed against him. He kissed her forehead, rocking her slightly, "My God, Emma. What happened?" He looked down at her, his eyes staring at her bleeding wrist. It was then that he saw there were other scars on her arm, some on the other, too. She'd done this before. Many times, and he hadn't ever picked up on it. She was his girlfriend – how could he not know this was happening to her?

"C-carl broke…a-and y-you….Terri….parents…OCD…" she choked out the few words she could between sobs before sniffling, wiping her eyes with her hand, getting a bit of red on her face, before finally muttering the final two syllables, "worthless."

Emma shook her head, feeling stupid on top of everything, sitting in Will's arms, crying like a child. She just couldn't handle it, she'd held it all in for so long – all the tears she'd wanted to cry but never did were pouring from her eyes, her salty soul streaming down her cheeks, her blood on her ex-boyfriend's shirt.

Will thought over her broken sentence a few times, listening as her crying began to subside. He couldn't help but blame himself, and it was confirmed that he was partially to blame in her words. He started with the easiest, in his mind.

"You said Carl was fixing you."

Emma looked up at him and shook her head before looking down at her hands, glad her tears were slowing, "He was forcing me to change. I h-had to. If I d-did the gloves or the sanitizer, he'd talk down to me and m-make me feel terrible. Stupid. So I made myself stop around him, because…" She fell silent, closing her eyes, not wanting to admit that it was because of Will.

"Because what? Em, talk to me."

She hesitated, "B-because you seemed happy with Terri this time. And I d-deserve someone like Carl…but now I don't even have that." She sighed as the tears started coming, Carl's final words resounding in her brain.

Will looked down at the fragile girl in his arms, his heart breaking for her. He was nowhere near as happy with Terri as he was with Emma. Even when he was fighting with Emma, he was happier than the happiest day with Terri. He loved Emma, she just couldn't see that, no matter how he tried to show her. He grabbed Emma's wrists, his thumbs gently grazing her cuts, old and new on each wrist.

"Emma, I'm so sorry…you looked so happy with him at school. I wish I could fix this for you. He…he shouldn't have done that, Emma. I would _never_ try to fix or change you. I never have." He looked down at her arms, then back up to her face, "How long?"

Emma swallowed. She didn't want to tell Will, she'd never told anybody before and the only person who ever found out was her brother. He only found out because she'd left the blade on the sink one day. She shook her head and closed her eyes, her face screwing up as new tears fell, thinking of all the times she'd done it. Will reached up and held her face steady in his hands, each hand cupping one side of her face.

"Emma, please…I need to know."

Emma shook her head again. Why did he need to know? Nobody else cared, so why would he? She didn't want to get into this now, but he persisted, his voice breaking slightly.

"Please…"

Emma opened her eyes to him looking at her, tears in his eyes. She took a breath through her nose and blinked, trying to stop tears from falling again.

"Three years," she whispered quietly.

Will closed his eyes and a tear ran down his face. Three years. She'd been doing it while they were together and he had no idea. All the times he'd held her hands and kissed her face, told her he cared about her and showed her his feelings of love for her, and he never noticed. He took a breath and rested his forehead against the side of her head.

"Emma, I am _so sorry_. I should have noticed, I should have stopped you."

Emma shook her head. She didn't know what to say. So many people _should have_ noticed, her parents included, but they never did. They still wouldn't.

"Three years, that's a long time. I want to help you stop," he said after a few minutes of silence. He wasn't going to let the best person he knew in the world continue to mutilate herself, whether he was the cause or not.

Emma took a breath. Her tears had stopped and the cuts on her wrist had stopped their weeping as well. "I've tried. It's…it gives me this rush and I forget everything for a while. I don't want to stop. It's that pain that helps me ignore everything else."

She looked up at Will and could see he didn't understand. How would he? She sounded crazy, she was sure, and he had a great, normal life. He couldn't understand.

"Will, I've lived so long being teased and tormented. Even when I was with you, when I am with you, I still feel pointless and worthless. I have for so long, and it helps feeling hurt that's not so deep. Hurt that I can control."

They were silent for a few minutes after her confession. She looked at him and licked her lips. "I think you should go." She moved to start getting up from his lap. She was standing when he took her hand from his spot on the floor.

"What? E-emma, no I –"

"Will, please. Go. I need to clean this mess, and I can't…I can't pretend that you being here while you're with Terri and not me isn't killing me. So go. Eventually, she'll break your heart again and you'll come back to me once again. And if you can handle the scarred up Emma that _you_ helped create," she pointed at him, "then I'll be here. Same as always."

She watched as Will got up to leave and turned as he reached the bathroom door. She reached under the sink and got out a bottle of peroxide, pouring it over her wrist, gasping as it stung and bubbled, ridding her wounds of any infection.

"I don't care if you'll be scarred up. I'll take you for who you are, Emma, if you'll take me for everything that I've done to you. I'll do it all over again if it means that I end up with you."

She turned to respond, but he was already down the hall. She watched him turn down the stairs and listened until the front door shut, signaling his departure. She cleaned up her mess and bandaged her arm up, before going to her room and collapsing on her bed. She curled up and pulled her covers over her head. She started crying, remembering Will's words. _I'll take you for who you are, Emma_. She'd go to him. Not now, but soon. She'd take him back, and this time, she didn't plan on letting him go.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hours slide and days go by | Till you decide to come | But in-between it always seems too long | For certain | But I have the skill, yeah | I have the will, to breathe you in while I can | However long you stay is all that I am | I don't mind, I don't care | As long as you're here | Go ahead and tell me you'll leave again | You'll just come back running | Holding your scarred heart in hand | It's all the same | And I'll take you for who you are | If you take me for everything | And do it all over again | It's always the same_

Years passed by quickly after that night that Will found Emma on her bathroom floor, cutting herself up. A few weeks later, finals were going on, then prom, then graduation and summer came. Will saw Emma at Graduation, cheering loudly for his best friend as she crossed the stage to get her diploma. Emma never saw Will receive his diploma, as she bolted from the gymnasium the moment her diploma was in her hand.

Two weeks later, Emma was off to New York, studying Theater and Psychology at Columbia University. She had no idea both of those years studying that Will was a subway ride away at NYU studying Theater and Spanish, not that she'd have taken the subway anyways.

College experiences for Emma and Will were very different.

Will became highly involved in partying and the social scene. His grades were good enough to get by, and he barely made it to his observation hours for his teaching certificate ninety-five percent of the time. He and his roommate became very close and they were at the 'cool kids' of the dorm, throwing parties most weekends and living life to its fullest. There were many girls in Will Schuester's life, but none of them lasted more than three dates, and none of them measured up to the adorable red-head he fell asleep dreaming about each night. His parents told him to give up on Emma. There were other girls, but Will refused. He told her he'd be waiting, and he would be, even if it meant being alone forever.

Emma threw herself into performing arts, auditioning for every play and musical she could find, trying to forget about Will and the promises he left for her in Ohio. She didn't want to admit to herself that she needed him as much as she knew she did. The last thing on Earth that she wanted was go see him again and know that the promise of waiting for her was broken, so she tried to forget. For a bit, Emma's cutting got worse. It wasn't until her sophomore year of college that she realized how much she needed help.

Finals had just finished up and Christmas break was three days away. Emma and her roommate were relaxing and finishing packing when a girl from down the hall entered their room, inviting them to a party at NYU. Her cousin attended school there and supposedly a huge rager was going down. It took some convincing, but finally, Emma agreed to go, dressing up for the night, hoping to maybe leave the party with someone other than her roommate for once.

At the party, things started to get a bit out of hand, and on a dare, Emma agreed to play Tequila Pong. "Come on, Emma – it's Beer Pong, but with stronger alcohol! You'll be fine!" As it turned out, Emma was terrible at Tequila pong and had to call it quits after about nine shots of tequila. Something Emma learned that night: it took very little to get her very drunk.

Emma got a bit…sloppy…that night. Everything was suddenly funny, and her roommate kept saying they needed to stay hydrated. So what did they do? Drink more. They'd been at the party for a few hours when Emma saw a boy who looked vaguely familiar. Her jaw dropped and she stood up, yelling after him.

"Wellyum Shooshter!" Her words slurred together as she tried to get them out.

She had no idea that the cousin of the girl down her hall was Will's roommate and she was flabbergasted to see him. The boy walked over, face confused.

"Emma? My god, Emma. I haven't seen you in two years. You look…like shit, to be honest."

"Wuddever! No, I juss, therezz thiz reeeeeeally fun game called Tekeeluh Ponk, an bassikly I loss," she nodded, leaning on him, the room was spinning and she had a hard time standing.

She reached up to kiss him, not fully realizing what she was doing, but Will pushed her away, shaking his head.

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"Tryna kiss you. You says you was gunna wait fer me, well here I em, waited for."

She looked up at him and swallowed as he shook his head, "Emma. No. Not like this…"

Taking a deep breath, Emma shook her head and pushed him away. "Sca-roo, you, Well Shoosher," she began, turning and walking away. Will reached for her hand, but she pulled it away, angry at being rejected; her drunken mind telling her he'd given up on waiting.

"Emma, please. Come sit down."

She pulled her hand away and pushed him back again, pointing at him, "No, I geddit! I geddit! Lemme guess, Terri del-fucking-Monaco izz waitin' in yer dorm," She looked at him with pain and disgust in her eyes, "Juss…walk away."

Emma did just that, leaving the party and going down to the street, hailing a taxi and mumbling out her address as tears were welling in her eyes. She didn't know that Will ran after her, hopping in a taxi cab and following after her.

Reaching her dorm, Emma gave the driver a twenty and stumbled into the building, saying hello to the security guard through her tears. She heard her name being called and turned around, spotting Will running up the stairs. She looked at the security guard. "Don' let him follow me," she said, shaking her head and stepping into the elevator, going up to her room.

Once inside her room, she closed the door and leaned against it, falling to the floor and crying, her forehead resting against her knees as rejection washed over her. Rejection by her best friend, her ex-boyfriend…the boy she was in love with. He didn't want her, and why would he after everything?

Tears streaming down her face, a thought popped into Emma's head. She crawled across to her bed and pulled out a box from underneath it, taking off the lid and seeing a razor in it. She grabbed it and thought for a moment, contemplating it. Did she really want to do this now, with Will downstairs? What if her roommate walked in? She usually did this in the shower when nobody would find her, but after a few moments, she decided she didn't care and pressed the blade to her skin, dragging it across. She stared at the line in her skin leaking fluid, surprised that when drunk, she felt less pain. For that, she figured she should compensate, giving herself more cuts, reminding herself that now Will had rejected her, too.

Nobody wanted Emma. She'd practically had to beg her parents to let her come home this Christmas, having not been back to Lima since she left summer after graduation. Her brother hadn't talked to her once since she left, and even Shannon had stopped correspondences. She had nothing and nobody, but the idea of Will waiting for her kept her going. She was going to go to him when she arrived in Lima. Now he'd rejected her. **Nobody wants you, Emma** she told herself as each new slash mark was made in her skin.

About half the skin of her forearm was covered in cuts after some time; some intentional, many the result of shaking hands trying to drunkenly maneuver a blade. Blood flowed freely from her veins, onto her skin, her skirt, her shirt, the rug, everywhere. After a bit of time, Emma couldn't focus on the blade anymore from a combination of the headache and tear-blurred vision, and being unable to see where she had already cut and where she hadn't. She dropped the blade on the floor and sat there, arm bleeding all over the place, hoping her roommate wouldn't come in. Emma cried herself to sleep on the floor, wondering when Will actually gave up on her.

It was five a.m. when Emma's roommate finally entered the room, followed closely by a Will Schuester who'd explained how he knew Emma and begged her to let him up to see her. Upon entering the room and turning on the light, her roommate caught sight of Emma sleeping on the floor and screamed, seeing the blood. Will cursed, walking over and scooping her up from the floor, placing her in his lap as he sat on her bed. He looked at her roommate, tears in his eyes, "Trust me, this is nothing new. Call an ambulance. Please." He turned back to Emma, shaking his head. He couldn't believe she was doing this again – and this severely.

When the ambulance arrived, Will explained about the party and how Emma had a history of hurting herself that dated back five years. Emma's roommate opted to stay back at the dorm and clean their room, but he begged the EMT's to let him ride with her in the ambulance, not wanting her to be alone. They agreed and he held her hand the whole way there. She woke up twice, but fell asleep again soon after each time.

Hours later, Emma began to wake up, shifting slightly in the hospital bed. The bed felt different than the bed back at her dorm and there were too many pillows. Opening her eyes, she squinted immediately under the bright fluorescent lights in the hospital room. She swallowed and let her eyes adjust before looking around, confused. It was clear that she was in a hospital, but she couldn't remember getting there. She moved to sit up and flinched as her arm bumped against her side. The redhead looked down to see her left forearm wrapped completely in gauze and the previous night came flooding through her and tears sprang to her eyes. Her emotions caused her heart to race and the heart monitor she was attached to beeped faster and faster.

Hearing the beeping, Will sat up from resting his eyes. He'd convinced the doctors to let him stay with Emma overnight, determined not to leave her. He had to be there for her, since this was essentially his fault. Standing, Will walked over to Emma.

"Hey, calm down, you're okay," he said, giving her a small smile. He was so relieved that she was finally awake.

Reaching down, Will kissed Emma's forehead and pressed a button, calling the nurse in. Seeing Emma awake, the nurse smiled and told her it was nice to see her beautiful brown eyes. She explained that Emma had been brought in with a severely cut up arm, and it was made known that the cutting was done personally. The doctors had also pumped Emma's stomach after the amount of alcohol consumed was made known to them. Emma nodded, realizing that's probably why she felt like shit. The nurse explained that she needed to stay for the rest of the day, but she'd be released later that night, and she'd be in to check on her periodically before leaving the room.

Emma listened carefully and smiled at the nurse as she left. After a few moments, Emma turned and looked at Will then closed her eyes, resting against her pillows. Will sat down on the edge of Emma's bed and took her hand.

"Emma, you scared the shit out of me last night," he said, rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb.

Emma pulled her hand away, opening her eyes and glaring at him, "I'm fine. I'm awake. You can now leave, since rejection is your new game, Will."

She didn't remember much from the party last night, but she definitely remembered her conversation with Will. Hurt didn't begin to cover how she'd felt, and she was paying for it now.

Will looked at Emma, shocked and confused as to what he'd done.

"Emma, I'm not going to leave you. I need to make sure you're okay."

"That didn't occur to you last night when you turned me down in front of everyone. So much for waiting, right?" She couldn't keep the bitter tone out of her voice.

He shook his head, staring at her, "It's been two years. I was pretty sure you gave up on me, and then seeing you…You were drunk, Emma, and being sober I wasn't about to take advantage of that."

"Apparently I wasn't drunk enough, or I wouldn't remember the feeling of humiliation." She shook her head and turned away from him, tears welling up in her eyes, "I've tried to forget you, Will, because I didn't want to be hurt when I finally saw you again, knowing you'd probably be moved on. I've dated when I could, I've been in plays and musicals and kept myself busy, and I haven't been home to Lima in two years. But I couldn't forget you, and I was going home to Lima day after tomorrow for Christmas, and I was going to find you and tell you that I wish you were still waiting," she sniffled and closed her eyes, fat tears leaking down her face, sideways onto the pillow, "I knew it was foolish to hope, and after last night's rejection, you just confirmed it."

She let out a quiet sob, pulling the blankets higher up to hide her face. As if last night wasn't humiliating enough, now this had to happen. Emma felt Will shift slightly on the bed and suddenly felt on of his arms enclose across her waist as his body pressed up against her back. He kissed the back of her hair and shook his head.

"Emma, I thought you'd forgotten about me. You left the day after graduation and I haven't heard from you since. You're the last thing I think about every night and often times the first thing I think about in the morning. My parents kept telling me to give up on you, but I refused, because I promised you that I would wait. No matter how long it takes."

Emma listened to his words and it made the tears come harder. Will shushed her gently and rubbed her arm with his hand, his face still buried in her hair.

"But Emma, you hurting yourself isn't okay. My heart breaks knowing that the woman I love is willingly scarring up her perfect body. I said I'd wait, and I still will, but you need help, Em. I'll be with you every step of the way, but if this doesn't stop, I can't see myself wanting to wait much longer."

She thought this over for a few minutes and nodded, "Okay," she whispered, "I'll…I'll get help." She sniffled and wiped at her eyes gently. Will reached over and kissed her cheek. He laid against her, rubbing her arm and stroking her hair, thankful that she was okay and that he'd found her last night. He was so glad she'd agreed to get help, and knew it would be tough, but he'd be by her side as he promised.

Emma became relaxed by Will's stroking motions against her hair and the gentle kisses he'd place at the back of her shoulder every so often. She was falling asleep, but she mumbled quietly, "Don't leave me." The last thing she heard before slipping into a dreamless sleep was Will's voice, low and gentle, "I didn't plan on it."


End file.
